Thursday and Friday I worked flat out at UCLA, having been co-opted by Professor Yarrow to help the committee running the Global Marsupial Symposium. Any worries I had that someone would catch me out about the research paper I was supposedly writing under Rube Wasinsky's supervision receded, as everyone was totally concentrated on the myriad organizational demands created by such a prestigious international conference.
I checked list after list of attendees to ensure no one would be insulted by receiving a misspelled name tag. This task was more demanding than it sounded, as many countries were represented and so many people had, for English speakers like me, challenging names. Then I was set troubleshooting problems that had occurred with catering for all the different cultures. I was kept so busy that I hardly had time to say hello to Rube or work on becoming friends with Erin Fogarty so that I could pump her some more about the quokka research Oscar had said she'd stolen to give to Jack Yarrow.
On Thursday I did manage to fit in my appointment with Georgia Tapp, Yarrow's administrative assistant. We chatted for a while about how wonderful the professor was, how his keen, incisive mind and forceful personality had elevated me Global Marsupial Symposium to the must-go event in the scientific world. Then her cheerful, dimpled face grew grim. 'Such great success breeds envy. Little people try to drag the professor down.'
'You mean Dr. Braithwaite?'
'That creature! You heard him yesterday in his unwarranted, intemperate attack upon Professor Yarrow, a man whose boots he's not fit to shine!'
'Awful,' I murmured.
'Something has to be done,' said Georgia Tapp. 'Braithwaite has to be stopped before he goes too far.'
I tried a puzzled but attentive expression. It worked.
'Can you imagine?' Georgia snarled. 'He's claiming Professor Yarrow has stolen his quokka research.' She took a few agitated breaths. 'As if Professor Yarrow would need to pass other's work off as his own!'
I shook my head. 'Hard to believe.'
'The truth is-' Georgia broke off to lean forward conspiratorially. 'The truth is, we've learned Braithwaite intends to attack Professor Yarrow's credibility in front of an audience of the greatest marsupial experts in the world.'
'Surely they won't believe him,' I said. 'I mean, Professor Yarrow is such an eminent authority.'
'Mud can stick,' she declared darkly. 'That's why something has to be done.'
What this something might be I was not to discover, as Jack Yarrow himself appeared at her office door. 'Kylie?' he said with rather chilly surprise. 'I thought you were helping with the symposium arrangements.'
'Sorry, Prof. Stopped to chat. Won't do it again.'
'Professor,' said Yarrow and Georgia in unison.
'Sorry again.' I smiled sweetly at Yarrow, who was blocking my exit by standing in the doorway. 'It's like you said before, I've got that annoying Aussie tendency to use diminutives.'
He didn't look amused, but he did manage to press himself against me as I squeezed past him. Yerks!
By late Friday afternoon I was more than glad to say goodbye to the biology department and head for home. I reached Kendall & Creeling, parked my car, and stopped, as I often did, to admire the courtyard at the front of the building. Its little terra-cotta fountain burbled happily to itself. I'd recently bought a selection of tree ferns to create shade in one corner, and I had my eye on a stone bench I'd seen in one of the zillion catalogs that constantly arrived in the mail. Melodie, who was the catalog queen, was always poring over one or the other and announcing she'd found something she just must have.
Melodie herself appeared, traipsing listlessly across the red terracotta tiles of the courtyard in the direction of the parking area.
'Oh, hello,' she said, shoulders drooping. 'I left your messages on your desk.'
'Whatever's the matter?'
Melodie dumped her voluminous makeup bag on the ground. 'Ashlee.' Her voice was bitter. 'The hush-up didn't work. Ashlee found out Quip is auditioning for
'There was a leak in the receptionist network?'
Melodie put heart and soul into a dark scowl. 'If I find out who…'
'It'll be curtains? She'll be cast into receptionist outer darkness? Much gnashing of teeth?'
Melodie zapped me with a look. 'You can joke, Kylie, but this is serious. Ashlee's heart is set on playing Lucy/Lucas, would you believe? That's my role. I told Quip I was prepared to dye my hair red so I could fully realize the very essence of a redheaded character.'
'That makes sense,' I said encouragingly. 'As a blond, you only know the essence of blondness, like I know the essence of dark brown.'
Melodie gave me a very suspicious look. I maintained a bland expression. 'Good luck,' I said. 'I can't imagine Ashlee's got a chance, with you in the running.'
She brightened. 'It's true Ashlee can't act, but…' Melodie trailed off as gloom took over again.
'What?' I said.
'It isn't fair,' Melodie snapped. 'Ashlee's a natural redhead.'
'Like Fran.'
Frowning, Melodie said, 'Why are you mentioning Fran? She isn't trying out for the part.' A look of alarm spread over her face. 'Omigod!
Fran left early today. And I did hear her reading lines to Lonnie in the kitchen. You don't think-'
'Surely Fran would have told you?'
Melodie snatched up her makeup bag. 'Gotta go,' she said, putting her ankles at risk as she broke into a near run in her extremely high heels.
Melodie's had been the only other car in the parking area, so I knew I was alone in the building except for Julia Roberts. She was waiting for me just inside the front door. I'd been held up at UCLA last night, and Jules had been served her dinner half an hour late. This, she had made plain, was unacceptable. Tonight, the moment she set eyes on me, Jules began lobbying for sustenance. This was more to make a point than to be sure she got fed on time, because she knew that when I was in residence, I was pretty well putty in her paws.
I locked the door, soothed Jules by giving her a quick groom-for a short-haired cat, it was amazing how much she managed to shed-then went to check my messages.
Mum had called to say she'd seen another L.A. freeway shooting on the news, and that I was not, under any circumstances, to take my life in my hands and drive on freeways. Melodie had scrawled on the bottom of the message: 'Your mom was real upset.'
Lonnie had left a note to advise me he'd installed a pinhole-lens camera linked to a time-lapse VCR at Pen Braithwaite's apartment. The VCR was set to record an image every second, which would catch anyone approaching the front door of the apartment. Like Melodie, Lonnie had added something. In his case it was a smiley face and the words: 'Dr. Penny! Cool!'
Julia Roberts had followed me into my office. I was telling her we could head to the kitchen for her tucker when I heard someone at the front door. Yerks! I was nowhere near my usual protective weapon, a golf club I kept behind my bedroom door.
'Kylie? It's me, Ariana.'
My heart gave a delighted jump. I hadn't expected to see Ariana until Monday. I put on a casual expression and went to meet her.
Ariana looked tired. 'I'm just calling in to pick up my messages,' she said, smothering a yawn. 'I'm beat. My plane was delayed two hours, and then we had a rough flight. I hoped to pick up Gussie, but we landed too late for me to make it to the Castle in time.'
'The castle?'
Ariana smiled. 'Believe it or not, the name of the boarding kennels is Canine Castle. The latest in luxury accommodations for dogs. Gussie seems to enjoy herself there.'
Carefully nonchalant, I said, 'So there's no one at home waiting for you to arrive?'
'The odd potted plant might pine for my company,' said Ariana lightly.
'Stay and have dinner with me.' When she seemed about to demur, I added, 'Oh, come on, Ariana. There's a local Thai restaurant I've got to know well. Beaut tucker. I can call an order in, and half an hour, tops, it'll be ready
